They Called Me Kuvah
by MJSkySailor
Summary: Miral Paris reflects on the path she has taken in life.
1. Chapter 1

Legal: Star Trek is owned by Paramount. I am receiving no money for this.

When I was very young, my godmother told me the story of how I was born between two quadrants.

"It was called a trans-warp hub," the admiral explained. "It took us from the Delta quadrant to the Alpha quadrant in minutes. And you came along somewhere on the way."

I was always thought of as unique, for several reasons. I was part Klingon, part human, conceived in the Delta, raised in the Alpha. My grandfather, my mom's dad, calls me a girl without a galaxy. My dad's father calls me the ultimate Starfleet brat.

I'm not exactly sure what I am. Or who I am.

I've been called a lot of things in my life. Before I was born, I was a savior, a hero, to an entire race of Klingons in the Delta quadrant. I was daughter, student, athlete, and to a few narrow-minded individuals, mongrel child. I have been nothing.

I remember the first time I tried it. Right after our championship decathlon meet. I had broken my high school's record that night, and though I was elated, I was too worn out to celebrate. Amber had the hypo. Take it, she said. It'll keep you awake for hours. I took it. Worst mistake of my life.

After that night, I took it three more times willingly. It made me feel giddy, carefree. I needed more. I tried to convince myself that I didn't _need _it, I just _wanted_ it. I managed to tell myself this for almost a month, until I used it the night before my Starfleet Entrance Exam, so that I could stay awake to study. That's when I knew I had lost control.

I failed the exam.

Two months later, my parents were starting to notice things. I tried to hide my addiction, but they could see it. My hands shook. My muscles twitched. My body was wasting away. Finally they approached me directly. It was the first time I had seen my father cry. My mother was stoic. She said she knew what it was like, this addiction. She said we would fight this together. But this was my battle, and I had no intention of making them suffer with me. That's why I had to leave.

John Janeway always managed to find me. He never told me to go home, to get help. He only stayed with me. He held me, brought me food when I was too delirious to realize it had been days since my last meal. Once, when I couldn't find the money, and my frail body was wracked with the symptoms of withdrawal, he got it for me himself. The one thing I remember vividly from that night was the look of helplessness in his eyes when he gave me the hypo.

Oh, John. You're a year and a half my minor, and already so careworn.

Those next months are an incoherent blur in my memory. I remember cold sweats, chills, living day by day, until I could get the next dose. Some things I'm not sure if they were real or imagined.

I remember John's hands on me, his lips on mine.

I didn't remember much until the baby.

I woke up in Starfleet Medical, two and a half months pregnant. My parents were there. They hugged me, and told me everything would be alright. This baby, I thought, could be what I needed to turn my life around. It wasn't just me I had to be concerned about. Maybe this was my way out of this circus from hell that was my life.

He died anyway.

When I had been admitted, I had overdosed. He took enough in his little body to keep me alive. He had died saving me. An honorable death.

Some Kuvah' Magh I was.

It was another half a year or so of sporadic memories before my mother told me to take the Challenge of Spirit. At that point, I felt like I had nothing left. No memories, no place to live. I had John, I suppose, through those months. I began to feel something toward him. Rather, my sporadic, mutinous brain began to associate a feeling with him. Was it love? Or was he just the one constant figure in my troubled life. To figure that out, I needed to get my head straight. I took the Challenge.

I've been living on Boreth for almost 4 months now. Most who take the Challenge consider it to be just that; a challenge. Ironically, in me, the Challenge is my safety net. It has possibly held death at bay, so that I can find myself, and recover. I can finally string two thoughts together. They were simple ones at first. I am Miral Paris. I am 19 years old. Those came fairly easily. The more recent ones are more difficult. Like who the baby's father is.

There's another baby. I realized that about a month after my arrival here. This one is a fighter. He might make it.

He has to.

Is he yours, John?

The Klingons in the Delta quadrant called me the Kuvah' Magh. The savior. Only now, the only person that needs saving is me.

I am a girl without a galaxy, perhaps. But maybe I can find a place in this one after all.

I still haven't quite finished stringing these thoughts together yet.

Feedback is appreciated!!:-)


	2. Chapter 2

For the first time in almost eight months, I saw the temples of Boreth.

I held Ketan tighter to my chest and stood looking at their indistinct outlines in the distance. I had completed the challenge, had redeemed my honor. And now I was ready to go home.

Was I?

I no longer craved _it_, my body had long ago purged itself of the need. And now I had a child, a reason to keep myself out of the abyss I had fallen into before. But could I really go home? Would my family welcome me back with open arms, or would they secretly wonder, "How long will she stay clean this time."

And then of course, there's Ketan. Oh, John.

I decided early on that Ketan was John's son. But would John be able to be a father to him? Kahless, he's not even eighteen. Chakotay and Kathryn wanted him to go to the Academy. Could I really just sprint back to San Francisco, with a child in my arms, and disrupt his life? Ketan might have been my savior, but to John, to everyone else, he would be seen as a mistake, a lack of judgment by a silly, damaged child.

Maybe I wasn't ready to go home yet. Maybe I couldn't go home. Ever.

Ketan began to cry softly.

"What do you think?" I asked. "Do you want to live on Boreth for the rest of your life? It's not so bad. I lived here for two years, when Grandma Miral died." Ketan cried harder.

A cold wind whipped through the trees. I realized the sun had set and nightfall would come soon. I sought refuge in a cave about a kilometer away. Vaguely, I remembered a story from my past, about a cave, where my mother and grandmother stayed once, a lifetime ago. I crawled toward the back and curled up out of the wind, keeping Ketan tight to me.

When I awoke, I started walking toward the temples. I couldn't protect myself or my son from the real world much longer. I chuckled slightly at the irony. The unpredictable, dangerous wilderness of Boreth was my safety net.

It took me nearly the whole day to reach the temple. I didn't stop to rest, or eat. Finally I arrived at the temple's ancient doors. I pounded on them with my fist.

The Priestess greeted me, frowned momentarily at Ketan. "Miral Paris. You are two months overdue. We were beginning to think you had died. Qapla'."

"I have to contact my family," I insisted. The Priestess motioned toward the corner of the room. I paused for a minute before I managed to remember our code. The call was put through instantly.

My father was the one who answered. It was as if I was seeing him for the first time. He looked older than I remembered. Of course, there was a lot I didn't remember.

"Dad," I said breathlessly.

"Miral. We were so afraid… and now you… a baby? B'Elanna!"

My mother appeared on-screen a second later. "Miral!" she cried. "Is that really you?"

I nodded, swallowing against a sudden lump in my throat. "I'm coming home, Mom. I'm a different person now. I promise you."

The transport back to San Francisco was a long one. Ketan seemed to pick up on my nerves and cried most of the way home.

Once I arrived back on earth, I transported directly to my parents' apartment. I was received with a crushing embrace.

"Good to have you back," my father said, and I saw tears in his eyes. My mother had taken Ketan in her arms.

"When did you…" she began.

"I gave birth to him about two months ago, while I was on the Challenge. I didn't even know I was pregnant before I left."

"John Janeway?"

"I hope so."

We talked for hours, well into the night. I felt like I belonged, like I have never been gone. It was good to be home.

"Can I hold him?"

I looked up at John, and silently passed the boy over to him. Ketan cooed softly in his father's arms.

"We'll figure this out, Miral," he said.

"I'm so sorry," I sobbed. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

John shifted Ketan to one arm and wrapped the other around me. "Don't be sorry," he said. "When you… when I found out our first one didn't make it, I was devastated. I never expected to feel that way. I realized how much I really wanted a child, even if the timing wasn't quite right." He pressed a kiss to my cheek. "I love you," he murmured in my ear.

I froze. Did he just say what I thought he said? And did I feel the same way about him?

It was a lifetime before I said, "I love you, too."

"Marry me, then."

I pulled away. "What?"

"Miral," he began, "I know you're trying to make a new life for yourself right now. I want to help you, be there for you. Marry me."

I looked into John's blue eyes, saw nothing but love reflected in them. I squeezed his hand, smiled at him.

"Okay."


End file.
